"
"I am not in the habit of revenging myself, Mr. Meeson," answered
Augusta, with dignity; "but I think that you have done a very wicked
thing to disinherit your nephew in that fashion, and I don't wonder that
you feel uncomfortable about it."
The expression of this vigorous opinion served to disturb Mr. Meeson's
conscience all the more, and he burst out into laments and regrets.
"Well," said Augusta at last, "if you don't like your will you had better
alter it. There are enough of us here to witness a will, and, if anything
happens to you, it will override the other--will it not?"
This was a new idea, and the dying man jumped at it.
"Of course, of course," he said; "I never thought of that before. I will
do it at once, and cut Addison and Roscoe out altogether. Eustace shall
have every farthing. I never thought of that before. Come, give me your
hand; I'll get up and see about it."
"Stop a minute," said Augusta. "How are you going to write a will without
pen or pencil, or paper or ink?"
Mr. Meeson sank back with a groan. This difficulty had not occurred to
him.
"Are you sure nobody has got a pencil and a bit of paper?" he asked. "It
would do, so long as the writing remained legible.
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